


Goodnight

by burntotears



Series: Myan Prompts [9]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Established Relationship, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, M/M, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4320618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burntotears/pseuds/burntotears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael was a hardened criminal, sure, but that didn't stop him from being worried sick whenever his boyfriend was out on a job all night and he hardly heard a word from him. He was only human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from tumblr: Gta verse where neither Michael nor Ryan can sleep without making sure the other comes home safely. Even if it takes all night

It had to be nearly four am now. Michael had stopped looking at the clock about an hour ago because it just made time move even slower. He looked back down at his phone and cursed at himself because the time was staring him in the face as he unlocked the device to look at his text messages again.

_**2:03 am** Be home soon. Don’t worry. Go on to bed, baby._

“Yeah sure, Ryan. No problem. I’ll just do that,” Michael huffed, jumping off the couch suddenly like he’d been bitten by it and padded his way into the kitchen in socked feet, shivering despite the hoodie he had draped over his shoulders. It was probably the only thing keeping him sane at the moment - the scent of Ryan filling his lungs each time he took another deep breath from inside the worn material. 

He hated nights like this. Generally he and Ryan were on jobs together so it didn’t matter as much, but when they did them separately, Michael couldn’t do anything but sit around like a lost duckling, waiting for Ryan to walk through the door in one piece. Or at least relatively one piece; as long as all the important pieces were still working, that was what mattered. 

Michael had tried everything. He’d tried distracting himself with video games, alcohol, hanging out with Gavin and Ray… even mixing two of the three and seeing if that made any difference. But in the end all he did was stare at his phone and lament about Ryan’s safety until he saw the man again. Gavin and Ray said he wasn’t any fun like that and had given up on him. Some friends they were.

He opened the fridge and stared blankly into it. He hadn’t eaten since lunch and he knew his stomach was queasy more from hunger than his anxiety, but he couldn’t seem to force anything down. Everything they had inside the fridge just didn’t seem appealing, not even his favorite feta and mushroom stuffed ravioli that Ryan had made the other night. Michael would be living off ramen noodles if it wasn’t for Ryan, that was a fact he was wholly ready to admit. 

Michael grabbed a bottle of water and sat down at the bar with it, twirling it between his hands, never bothering to open it. The coolness kept him centered, brought his mind to focus on something other than the silence in the house, the dark screen on his cell phone sitting on the counter next to him. 

Ryan was probably right. He should just try to go to sleep. It would make everything so much easier. He could be woken up by Ryan sliding into bed next to him, taking him into his arms, holding him close, and all the worry and constant anxiety would have been for naught. Except that he’d never get to sleep even if he lay down. He’d stare at the ceiling and play horrific scenarios in his head, each one more gruesome and even less likely than the last until he was more worked up than he had been before his head hit the pillow. 

No, it was always better to just stay up and keep himself occupied with… twirling a water bottle between his hands. Yes. It was the perfect distraction.

The door handle jiggled and Michael shot up off the stool, sending the water careening to the kitchen floor in his haste to reach the front door. Ryan was stepping inside by the time he got there, dropping a bag in the entryway and closing it behind him. Michael tossed the hood back off Ryan’s face and tore the mask away, slamming into him with a fierce kiss.

Ryan made an ‘oof’ sound, his hands already wrapped around Michael’s waist and holding him close as they kissed, both of them sighing deeply into it. When Michael pulled back to assess the damage on Ryan’s body, his hands were both roaming through the other man’s hair like he’d never felt it before.

“Hey,” Ryan said, smiling, the face paint smudged all over his face from sweat, some now smeared onto Michael’s cheeks as well. His blue eyes danced in the low light at the sight of it.

“You alright?” Michael asked, moving back more readily to search for gaping wounds. 

“M’fine. Why’re you still up?” the blond asked, brushing his thumb over the white paint on Michael’s cheek. 

Michael grunted disapprovingly, rolling his eyes. “You know why.”

Ryan chuckled softly and pressed his forehead into his boyfriend’s. “We really need to learn how to stop worrying about each other. It’s really fucking with our sleep.”

Michael shrugged. “At least when you come home late there aren’t 50 quiches on the counter.”

The blond blushed pink under the paint, but Michael could see it regardless. “I have to do something with my hands, okay? It’s that or go out and murder people and you told me not to do that anymore.”

“I’m tired of having to move, dude. We’ve got a nice place here, I’d like to keep it this time,” Michael said, finally leading them back to the bathroom so Ryan could get a shower.

“I know. You’re right, love.” Ryan kissed Michael’s temple and grabbed a make-up removing cloth to wipe the paint he’d smeared onto his boyfriend’s face. “There. Now go to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

As if just by saying it, Michael felt the weariness weigh on his shoulders and he nodded in agreement. “Okay. Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t,” Ryan said as Michael left for the bedroom and collapsed onto it, nearly asleep the second he was on the pillow. 

He was woken up about ten minutes later when Ryan crawled into the bed next to him, pulling Michael back against his chest and kissing behind his ear. With a deep sigh, Michael laced his fingers with Ryan’s and held their hands over his heart, breathing already evening out. “Love you,” he mumbled just as he started to pass out.

“I love you too, Michael.”


End file.
